Diagnosis: I Need to See a Speech Therapist

The last several weeks have been tough and each night is a battle. A pattern has developed - I find myself up for the first time in the night just an hour after initially falling asleep. Depending on the extent of my breathlessness, I would be up for anywhere from a few minutes to three hours, often multiple times a night, taking walks outside (yes, Seth would get up with me), watching TV, reading, getting fresh air outside on the balcony, etc.  For whatever reason, the morning hours get better and I can typically sleep from 4 AM on with no disturbance.

This past week, a referral to a lung specialist went through from my OB and I made my appointment immediately. At the first visit, the doctor expressed concern as it is not normal for someone pregnant or with anxiety to actually wake themselves out of sleep. So he ordered me to get an echocardiogram (basically an ultrasound of my heart) and various tests on my blood to check if this was an issue with my thyroid or a case of anemia. While I prayed nothing was serious, I also prayed the doctor would find something so I would have a chance at a remedy.

The tests all came back normal, and the doctor was somewhat dumbfounded. Before completely dismissing me from my follow-up appointment, the doctor had a breathing test done (normal) and ordered an endoscopy. (They stuck a camara down my nose! Ugh.) Immediately during the endoscopy the doctor detected the problem: Vocal Cord Dysfunction. What? 

Vocal Cord Dysfunction, often misdiagnosed as asthma, basically causes airflow obstruction, partially or fully closing the vocal cords and resulting in shortness of breath. Treatment: see a speech therapist. No, I won't need to learn how to correctly pronounce my r's; I'll learn breathing exercises and techniques to eliminate abnormal vocal cord movement to increase airflow.

In an answer to prayer, it's definitely something, but not serious. I hope to get into therapy soon, as simply knowing the diagnosis and practicing some exercises I learned on the Internet have not eliminated my sleepless nights.

My wonder through all of this has been what the Lord's purposes are. I definitely have learned (well, actually already knew), that I have the best husband in the world. Seth has been up for hours in the night, sacrificing his own sleep and being the support I need. He told me: "You are not just going through this, we are." As we approach our fourth anniversary on June 7, I am thankful I married a man who takes his vows seriously.

I have prayed like I never have before in these last weeks, often wondering how long this will continue. Because some nights, I feel like I just can't go on (nearly every night) like this. I'm only 26 weeks, and I don't know if delivery, or my new found hope for therapy relief, will cure me.

But in the end, if this is a result of pregnancy, I wouldn't trade it for the world. I know I am so blessed to be pregnant and now more than ever, I can't wait to meet our baby girl.

Panic

It hit me at 1:00 AM on Sunday morning. Mother's Day. I woke up to nothing in particular, but one thing was certain, I felt like I couldn't fully breath. Like each breath didn't nearly satisfy. And I began to panic.

Before I let myself get too worked up I made my way to the bathroom. That's typically what I do when I wake up in the middle of the night, although this time it wasn't the reason. But I felt suffocated by the darkness; the dizziness the light caused when I turned it on made it no better. By the time I was back to the bedroom I was in tears. And pacing. And woke up Seth in the meantime.

"Do we need to go to the emergency room?" I didn't know what else to do so I mindlessly began putting on my  clothes. I knew this wasn't about to go away anytime soon. What good was it to sit around, or pace around, while I waited it out or should there actually be something seriously the matter. 

We rushed upstairs and I opened the door to my parents bedroom. (We were in Minnesota that weekend celebrating my niece's first birthday.) "What's the matter!" exclaimed by dad. I had never seen him wake up and jump out of bed so panicked. My mom met us outside their room and all agreed I should be taken to the hospital. "Does everything seem okay with the baby?" my mom asked. The baby. The baby! Everything below the lungs felt fine, although I hadn't felt her since I woke up.

Seth pulled up directions to North Memorial Hospital, my birth place, on his iPad. My dad said a quick prayer over us and we dashed out the door. Few words were exchanged in the car except those I used to try to explain what was going on. I was thankful to have Seth. My protector. And while I sensed his deep concern, he knew what needed to be done and rolled though several stop signs and a red light or two to do so.

There was no waiting when I arrived. The pregnant nurse behind the counter immediately brought me to the adjacent room where she took my blood pressure and fashioned me with identification bracelets. In the patient room, the ER doctor, husband to an OB, and nurse number two, also pregnant, began asking me questions about what was going on. Both were extremely sympathetic. I explained the shortness of breath and acknowledged my response may be nothing more than a panic attack/anxiety. Because when you feel like you can't breath, apprehension ensues. 

The doctor explained this may be exactly what it is. As my pregnancy progresses, additional pressure is put on my lungs. Couple that with pregnancy hormones and my reaction is not uncommon. While this was the likely scenario, the doctor ordered a CT scan of my chest in case this was being caused by a blood clot in the lung, which can be very serious.

So pregnant nurse number two prepped me with an IV so that a contrast solution could be injected for clearer imaging. (Nurse number two unknowingly blew the vein.) I was then wheeled into the scanning room where I was laid onto my back, hands over my head, and a protective sheet was placed around my torso to protect my belly. Already unhappy in this position, especially since I am not supposed to be on my back when pregnant and could feel the pressure on my uterus, the radiology nurse noticed the defective IV. This nurse was also unsuccessful in his first attempt and moved to a location on my wrist. Success at last. I did my best to try to hold myself together but I began to feel heated and my blood pressure was rising. To make matters worse, the nurse announced that he would be asking me to hold by breath for several seconds during the scan even though I still couldn't breathe well. 

The actual scan didn't take more than a few minutes. On my second pass through, the nurse told me to hold breath (I did the best I could) and at the same time I felt heat go through my body from the chest to bladder from the solution. The scan was over, but I lost it and nearly gave Seth a heart attack when I was wheeled back into the patient room where he had been waiting. He thought I had already heard some bad news, but I was able to explain the traumatic experience between sobs.

The results came in about 30 minutes. They were negative, as I had expected. The doctor offered to give me something to help calm me, however the medication was classed where neither he nor I felt comfortable with taking since it could be harmful to the baby. So with information about anxiety/panic attacks, I was discharged with the recommendation to follow up at this weeks' appointment with my OB.

Seth and I both were exhausted when we got home. I was presently surprised to be able to fall asleep, now nearly 4:00 AM. 

Sunday was a tough day. I never felt the same kind of shortness of breath that I had felt in the night, however I still felt very emotional and shaken from the night's events. It didn't help being at church for my niece's baby dedication followed by attempting to be social at lunch with relatives and the reading of Mother's Day cards.

I could only hope this was the last time I had such an experience. Unfortunately this is not the case. So if you're reading, I would more than appreciate your prayers. 

It’s a Girl!

The time has finally come that I can proclaim it from the rooftops: We’re having a girl! And we’re ecstatic.

After receiving the news during the second ultrasound of the day, I managed to ward off my tears as far as the hallway outside the doctor’s office. There, Seth and I stopped. Seth beamed with a smile as he held me together (literally) and I began to come to terms with reality that my fantasy for having an eldest son would not actually become a reality. But only shortly after on my solo ride home (Seth and I having driven directly from work) the Lord began a great work in me. I was reminded of the post I wrote on March 2. God doesn't give us what WE want; He gives us HE wants according to HIS purposes. And over the course of the next couple of days before the big gender reveal party, I am proud to say that I am going to be a mama to a daughter.

Gender Reveal #1

A long three days after finding out the gender, the big party hosted by the Pietrini parents finally came. I was so excited to have my sister come in for the event (and to help me register the following day). It's  been a long time since we've had time together just us "seesters."

While gender reveal parties are somewhat new to expectant mothers and their party throwers, and inspired by the single source of inspiration, namely Pinterest, Maria (a.k.a. grandma-to-be) nailed this one.

Team Pink and Team Blue were exactly even! 

Team Blue

Team Pink

To reveal the gender, I filled a decorated box with pink helium balloons.

Gender Reveal #2

My coworkers also wanted to have a (cupcake) gender reveal party of their own (particularly because it meant there would be cupcakes) so I told the cupcake master of the second floor the gender on that Monday afternoon, and on Tuesday morning arrived these:

My division and other friends throughout the building gathered around, standing to my left if they thought I was having a boy and to the right if they thought I was having a girl. Unlike the balance at Gender Reveal Party #1, the guess was about 15-3 in favor of a girl. And as you already know, the majority was right.

Gender Reveal #3

At this point, my parents were about the last to know the baby gender - the exceptions being the students in our youth group, and the full Facebook community. Seth and I arrived in Florida on a Friday, however my parents still wanted to wait until Saturday to share the experience with my sister Sarah, her husband Peter and baby Elora arriving that afternoon. Up to this point, I had successfully been able to conceal the news before the appropriate reveal (doing my best to call the baby, "the baby"), however I had one "she" slip of the tongue in the car from the airport with my parents. Apparently it went unnoticed.

Shortly after my sister's family arrived, we gathered in the living room equipped with a boy and girl balloon and German chocolate cake (both provided by my parents) and a small wrapped gift to reveal the gender to my parents. 

Watch and see the reveal.

Following the reveal, my dad shared a blessing from my parents, as well as one that Seth's parents sent along. This blessing follows the one given by the two dad's (and soon-to-be granddad's) at our wedding. The theme verse:

Seth and I are so blessed to be surrounded by friends and family that support us as we bring a new little joy into the world.

It's a...

Baby! Sorry, you'll just have to wait a bit longer to find out what "it" is. But I do promise you this, they baby is no "it." He/she is an absolutely perfect 10 oz baby with all fingers and toes. 

Seth and I had been anticipating April 17 for a long time, especially over the last two weeks and we had to remind ourselves that there was really no point in speculating what we thought "it" is. "Well it's not a bowl of spaghetti," Seth would say. 

My appointment was at 4:30 PM and never has the doctors office been so full of people. Of course they were running late, of all days. We didn't get into the ultrasound room until about 5:00 as the anticipation was mounting. Although gender was on the forefront of our minds, we were excited to see a formed baby for the first time and hear that the baby is doing well in his/her cocoon. Seth held onto my hand as I watched the monitor with tear filled eyes and cheeks.

The ultrasound tech did a bit of looking around, but before taking any extensive measurements, she went to take a peek at the goods since I'm sure she sensed our anxiousness. I was convinced that we wouldn't have any trouble since prior visits to the doctors office I was told I had a little active one. This time however, our little babe was content in a single position holding onto his/her feet and covering the goods (or lack there of) with those little hands. "We'll come back to it."

After a good 10 minutes of head, leg, kidney, spine measurements, and a check to see there was no cleft lip or an umbilical cord in the way, we got back to it. With no success.

Now is no time for games little one. Stop playing with your toes!

Thankfully the ultrasound tech was kind enough to suggest we take a look again after I meet with the doctor (and pop some sugar, drink cold water and do some jumping jacks).

Seth took me aside after using the drinking fountain to pray that the Lord would help this little one budge. He pleaded that we would walk away today knowing whether we would be having a little boy or little girl.
After nearly another hour of waiting for literally two minutes with the doctor, we waited another few minutes to get back into the ultrasound room around 6:20 (noting Seth had now needed to use the bathroom for the third time since leaving work). While the baby still had his/her hands blocking our view momentarily, it wasn't long before we were told "___'s a kicker!"

The gender and our reaction will be posted next weekend (April 28) following our gender reveal party this weekend with Seth's family and some friends, a cupcake reveal next week with my coworkers, and another mini reveal when we see my parents in Florida next weekend. Yes, I know. Way to jump on the trendy bandwagon.

Oh the Suspense

It's killing me. I'm ready to find out if this baby is a boy or girl and also ready for him/her to make his/her kicking debut (and stop having to use boy/girl, him/her, his/her)! Things have just been pretty quiet and non-eventful lately. Too quiet and non-eventful. I never experienced another hot flash, my baby belly is making its appearance rather slowly, and I'm still not craving anything too crazy...although I did just order a salad, sushi roll (cooked of course) and french fries for dinner the other night (they just all sounded good), and a Milky Way fun size continues to make it into my lunch each day.

Gender. Nearly three out of four people say girl. Not for any reason in particular but rather that they just look at me and see girl. I thought everyone would guess boy since "Pietrini's only have boys," but not so much. And I think they just about have me convinced. All I really have to go off of is what people say and any old wives tales I'm experiencing, which seem to point more toward girl. This mama really has no idea. No intuition. No gut feeling. No "I just know."

I don't have the faintest clue if this baby is a boy or girl. 

And my dream last night didn't give me any clarity. I went to get my ultrasound while Seth went somewhere else to get my ultrasound (not sure how that works, but hey, this is a dream). Mine showed that I am going to have a girl but Seth's showed I'm going to have a boy. 

Could this mean twins? Kidding.

I think about my baby constantly; more than I ever would have expected. But all I picture is a little body with a blurred face. I'm ready to picture pink or blue, dolls or trucks, cheerleading or football, coffee or video games.

Boys and girls are just so different. (Super insightful, huh?) So my thoughts are going to just be so different. And actually, I don't really know what they are going to be like once I know because I just can't really picture one or the other at this point.

Baby, what are you (you know what I mean)? Are you even in there? A jab or poke would be nice. I would also settle for a flutter.

Reflections

Just a month ago, I began writing a post (that I didn't complete or publish) about how I don't feel like a mom yet. Not a mom in the sense of having children, taking care of them, and making sure they make it to the bus stop on time, but a deeper meaning to being a mom. But something has changed. Or rather developed. I have become a mom in the sense of having attained a sort of deep concern for my child. A sort of deep worry. A deep love. That if something were ever to happen to him/her, I don't know what I would do. 

I think about him/her struggling with something in life, a sickness, a limitation. All I want to do is make it alright. To take away any physical or emotional hardship that would come upon my child's life and be able to avoid any hurt that I would feel in turn. Because I can only imagine the hurt a mother must feel, that I'll feel, when we have no choice but to watch what is happening and there may be little I can do. Sometimes even when it may even be for their own good.

Recently, I had many instances of being deeply saddened when reflecting upon so many mothers that have experienced miscarriage, or for someone like my sister, who delivered Elora at 26.5 weeks not knowing if she would see her first birthday. (She celebrates her first May 10th!)  I realize that in no way can I fully empathize with these women, but I now carry a child that I can only hope and pray will live to see a day, a year, 12 years, 90 years in this world.

I love my baby in a way that I have never loved someone or something. And we haven't even met. But there is something remarkable and unique about having baby living inside me. Nothing will ever be mine, nothing will ever be Seth's, quite like this baby inside. 

But even so, I am at rest if I should face the sorrow of something ever happening to this baby of mine. The LORD is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit (Psalms 34:18). I consider this baby a gift; one that I have been entrusted with. And I can't hold my child with a clinched fist, either in life or out of life this life. So I hold this baby with open hands lifted high and pray I can just be the best mom I can be and rejoice in the assurance that "all things work together for good" (not neglecting the second part) "to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose" (Romans 8:28).

Hot Flashes: Not Just for Menopausal Women

On the plane back from a business trip to San Francisco this past weekend, I experienced a pregnancy symptom that I never knew existed: hot flashes. I didn't really know what was happening at the time. Was I getting sick? How long is this going to last? Should I prod the old man sitting next to me to get out of the way so I can make a beeline to the bathroom? Would I make it to the bathroom?

I felt too weak to do any more than throw off my jacket and blanket and try of fan off with my shirt. It's typical that I am freezing on planes but found myself literally perspiring all over. I took a napkin across my forehead, wiping off a good amount of collected moisture.

Thankfully this whole escapade only lasted a few minutes and hasn't repeated itself since. Once it was all over I knew what had just happened. I had a hot flash. Wait, doesn't that only happen to women in menopause? Isn't menopause quite the opposite of my current condition? 

At the OB on Monday the doctor confirmed that hot flashes are normal and most typical between 14 and 20 weeks (fluctuating hormones, drop in estrogen levels, yada yada). And I am one of the lucky 10 percent. 

(Everything went well at the doctor. Seth heard the heartbeat for the first time. 160 BPM, movin' and better than any birthday gift!)

On another note, I am starting to not feel like this so much anymore:

Baby's first celebrity photo op